


One step at a time

by starrymushroom (adoniss)



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Elliot Mastermind, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, No host!Elliot, Post-Series, Protective Mr Robot, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:28:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoniss/pseuds/starrymushroom
Summary: Elliot is struggling to move on after all he went through during the hack. Mr. Robot helps him get through the day. (Elliot = Mastermind)
Relationships: Elliot Alderson & Mr. Robot
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	One step at a time

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Um Passo de Cada Vez](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26269690) by [starrymushroom (adoniss)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/adoniss/pseuds/starrymushroom). 



> Hi! This is my first MR fic and I was looking forward to publish it  
> I’ve had a lot of help from [Hexiva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hexiva/pseuds/Hexiva), who worked as beta and editor (thanks a lot!!)  
> Hope you enjoy

Darkness embraces him like a child. The silence is only shattered by the sound of traffic passing by the window. Elliot has lost track of time, but time is far from being the most significant thing he has lost in past few months.

His whole body feels heavy. There are five names reverberating in an infinite loop in his mind, and he knows the reason.

_Romero._

_Mobley._

_Trenton._

_Angela._

_Tyrell_.

“Shower.”

Different word. Elliot shuts his eyes tight, trying to make the echoes stop just for once, just for a while so he can hear what else is going on there. The voice resounding in an infinite replay is his own, but...

_Romero._

_Mobley._

_Trenton._

_Angela._

_Tyrell._

“Hey... hey, kiddo.”

... but there is another voice trying to reach the surface, trying to emerge from the depths of his consciousness. Elliot would recognize that tone even in a thousand years. Mr. Robot is definitely crawling out of his mind, taking shape in the silent bedroom. First word he whispered was “shower”, but now the man is clearly speaking to him directly.

Is it time to get up and take a shower already? Fuck no. He doesn’t want to. He shrinks a little more on the blankets, shivering. It’s not the cold that makes him shiver. It’s fear. Fear of darkness, fear of that feeling that pulls him down and almost swallows him up. It doesn't take long for the echoes to start over.

_Romero._

_Mobley..._

“Hey, son,” the voice whispers again, this time followed by a few light pats on his face, as if to wake him up.

“Fuck off, man. Leave me alone.”

Elliot makes a move to force away the touching hands, but he can't. Mr. Robot holds his fists só tightly, it almost hurts. The young man finally opens his eyes, and his pupils are already so dilated he immediately recognizes the face of what should have been his father.

“Come on, kiddo. If you help me, this will be quick.”

"Leave me the fuck alone," he pleads again, his voice breaking into a sob. It sounds a little desperate.

He doesn't want to have to get up, much less take a shower. Mr. Robot looks at him with compassion. Almost... pity. The simple fact of being touched by his hands, even in such a rough and careless way, makes Elliot's eyes fill with tears. He has not experienced human contact in a long time.

“You need to take a shower. It’s not open for discussion.”

“And then you’ll leave me alone?”

“It doesn't hurt to try.”

He closes his eyes tightly again, trying to process the information. Showering... taking care of himself. Lifting his heavy body from the mattress, facing the cold of the night, doing something for himself... fuck, it’s been a while since he tried any of that. Doen't seem to have a choice anyway. Mr. Robot's fingers are squeezing his wrists, and they already hurt.

“Okay,” he groans before getting up.

Slow steps take him to the bathroom. Every piece of clothing he takes off is like a razor blade to his skin. The night is cold, and his body is hot. It trembles a little more, this time because of the chill. But Mr. Robot has already started the shower at high temperature and the mists are spreading over the bathroom.

“Don't look ... don't stare at me,” Elliot groans, even though Mr. Robot isn't.

“I'm not staring at anything, kiddo. Get in there.”

He gets in the shower. The bath is fast. Every little movement is an effort, but Elliot can do the basics. Wash his face, his groin, his hair. Brush his teeth. Mr. Robot opens the door to wash his back, and Elliot has been untouched for so long that his eyes moisten once more. A sob forms in his throat. Robot's fingers had been cruel on his wrists, but he washes his back gently now.

"We're almost done," he says.

The bath comes to an end. Robot is the one who turns off the water and wraps Elliot in the towel, as if it was a blanket. He is also the one who dries him, and although the texture of the towel is somewhat rough, Robot tries to be gentle. Elliot is so fragile that he feels like he’s going to break at any moment. The guilt weighs so heavily on his shoulders that he can barely stand; already wants to go to bed again. But Robot stops him.

"Not yet, son."

"But you promised."

"We need to get you something to eat."

"But you promised!" he growls, and there is a fraction of hatred in his voice. His eyes are moist again, in anger this time.

Why does he care so much? Why can't he just leave him alone? Why can't he just leave him to fucking _die_ alone? But Robot is resolute. When he seizes Elliot by the shoulders, his grip is firm, and for a few seconds Elliot thinks he’ll be attacked, but that’s not what happens. Unlike Edward Alderson, Mr. Robot never hurts him. In fact, what he does is defend him; sometimes even from himself.

When the man brings their foreheads together, Elliot doesn’t repel him. It feels like a hug.

"I promise," Robot mumbles. "After you eat something, you can go back to bed."

"I don't want to... eat..." he mumbles, and it's true. His stomach is upset, even though Elliot hasn't eaten in a while. He has unlearned to recognize the signs of hunger.

"I'm gonna make us scrambled eggs. Five bites and you're free to go."

Five bites. It doesn't look so bad.

"And then... I'll go back to bed.”

"I promise."

He nods. Five bites is not much; he can do that. His agreement causes a proud smile to form on Robot's lips, and that somehow makes Elliot feel better.

"Okay," he finally whispers.

The kitchen is close, but moving there is painful. The best part is, Elliot doesn't have to do anything but sit at the table and wait. Eventually, he taps slowly on the wooden surface while listening to Robot making his eggs.

Then he wonders: Does Robot also feel guilty about everything that happened? Was he there watching Elliot the whole time, or did he really only show up when the younger man was about to starve? Still, no words come out. They get stuck in his throat along with a host of other words.

"There you go," Robot says, putting a plate of eggs in front of him.

Elliot looks at his scrambled eggs. He’s eaten much worse things before, but better too. Tears come back to his eyes when he takes his first bite, but something different happens. He thought he’d feel sickened by food, but it actually feels good. As soon as the taste hits his tongue, he no longer limits himself to five bites. Eats several, one after another, finally realizing what would have been obvious to ordinary people: he had been hungry. He had been starving.

"Slow down, kiddo," Robot says, laughing, but he sounds satisfied. Elliot slows down, but not by much; he keeps chewing at the speed of light, only waiting a few extra moments between forkfuls. "Is it that good? I can make you some more."

The younger man doesn't answer. He’s surprised at himself; he still feels weighed down, his limbs leaden, but the fact that he is managing to eat... the fact that he is managing to chew his food, put something inside so he can live... seems like a big step. Finally, he sets his fork down. Considers having a second serving, but his stomach feels weird, so he decides that after days without eating properly, it’s better to take it slow. Looks up at Robot, and the man has a smug grin on his face; after all, he got what he wanted.

"See? It wasn't that bad..." he says, starting to get up with the plate in his hands, but Elliot takes his wrist. Robot gives Elliot a worried look, but for a few seconds, they sit there in silence, looking at each other.

Elliot has something to say, but he can't. Maybe he wants to say that he doesn't deserve all that; love, concern, affection. He didn't even deserve the food he just ate, but the truth is that he can't verbalize any of that. Until Robot breaks the silence between them.

"You were always like this."

"W... what? What are you talking about?"

"You were always like this, even before them. Romero, Mobley, Trenton, Angela, Tyrell - " and every name he speaks resonates like a bullet in Elliot's chest, but he doesn't want to hurt him. Instead, he seems to be trying to explain something to the younger man. "Even before they all died... even before the hack... you didn't know how to take care of yourself. You never thought you were..." and pauses. Looks down at the table, disappointed. Shakes his head in denial, as if he’s given up talking.

“Never thought I was what?”

“Worthy.”

Elliot’s eyes fill with tears again, but he doesn't quite know why. It’s true. He never thought he was worthy of any kind of affection. Never felt worthy of love and attention, perhaps because he’d never experienced it as a child, not the right way. But now that those five deaths weigh on his conscience - Romero, Mobley, Trenton, Angela, Tyrell - the weight in his chest has become unbearable. How much he blames himself for everything that happened... How much he hates himself for having involved all of them...

"But it's not too late to change that, kiddo," Robot whispers. To get his attention, he rests his hand over Elliot's, on the table. The young man gets scared and almost pulls back, but he doesn't. He allows the touch to happen. His breathing quickens, his heart pumps blood a little faster. So deprived of any human contact... he’s even pushed away Darlene, because he couldn’t risk hurting anyone else, except... except Mr. Robot.

Elliot’s not afraid of hurting him, because even if he tried, he couldn’t. He did try, for months and months in prison, trying to ignore him, trying to shove him away, trying to purge him out with Adderall. It didn’t work. Robot is the only person who’s safe to have around. The only person who can take care of him without the risk of being killed or injured. And just for that brief moment, Elliot feels grateful.

A sob escapes his lips, because that’s what’s happening. He is grateful for having Robot around. Grateful for not being alone.

"You were such a good boy today," Robot mumbles, and Elliot can almost manage a smile. The compliment is not malicious, nor does it have any ulterior motives. It just sounds... true. "If you go on like this, maybe tomorrow we can leave the house. Take a walk in the park... who knows, in a few days, even get Flicker back. What do you say?"

Flicker... yes. Elliot would like that. He would really like that. To have Flicker back... to manage taking care not only of himself, but also another being... that would be wonderful.

"Okay," he murmurs, nodding. "That would be... that would be nice."

Mr. Robot also nods. He looks proud.

"Come on, kiddo." He stands up. "Just for today, I'm keeping that promise. You can go back to bed."

He helps Elliot to his feet and escorts him back to bed. When Elliot lies down, the sheets don't feel so cold anymore. He wraps himself inside them, rests his head on Mr. Robot's chest, who holds him in his arms. He still doesn't think he deserves affection. Even so, at least for tonight, he allows himself to fall asleep while feeling Mr. Robot’s warm hands on his hair.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on tumblr](https://starrymushroom.tumblr.com/)


End file.
